The Final Frontier
by Kathryn Shadow
Summary: Mostly angstless, mostly harmless, 10/Rose, 11/Rose, reunion, songfic, my response to Jessa L'Rynn's March Challenge 1. Hope it lives up to your expectations, Jessa. Cookies to those who guess the song, and those who Google the lyrics to find it out. :P


This is me, succumbing to Jessa L'Rynn's March Challenge 1.

**Disclaimer:** I own neither Doctor Who nor The Alarm. Or anything by them.

**WARNING: **Un-beta'd... 'cause I'm a little impatient. As I'm sure you can tell.

**DIRE WARNING: **Plot-let wanders a bit (a lot)... sorry. Blame Jessa for inspiring me just before I passed out from exhaustion.

-BAD WOLF-

It was once thought that space was the final frontier.

And then it was conquered, and it was discovered that there was a frontier beyond that, called Time.

And then it was conquered.

The Doctor doesn't like having any frontiers in his way, and he _especially _doesn't like having frontiers in between him and what he wants; he never has. That's why he stole his TARDIS in the first place, why he ran away from Gallifrey; he didn't want to be tied down, confined.

But he's found another final frontier, which he was expressly forbidden to ever, _ever _muck about with, otherwise the multiverse would make interesting noises before collapsing in on itself and destroying everything. Literally, everything. Every possible everything which ever possibly could ever have possibly existed, or ever will have possibly existed, or...

Anyway.

He's found another final frontier, called the Void.

And it lies between him and what he wants. _Needs._

He went through five hundred and sixty-three years, forty-five days, twelve hours, fourteen minutes, and fifty-two seconds trying to find a way to the other side before he gave up and decided upon the last option he had wanted to take.

It was risky; dear Rassilon, it was risky.

But what was life without risk?

What was life without Rose?

He released the Bad Wolf from her cage in the heart of the TARDIS, allowing the shimmering half-entity access to his soul. With him as her host, gently directing her, she sliced the Void. Just a bit. A clean wound, not the hammer-blow which would have destroyed the multiverse, but a neat cut which barely allowed him and the TARDIS through to Pete's World.

He crashlanded in the middle of London, caged the Wolf once more, and slipped to the ground.

He slid in and out of consciousness for some time afterwards, even he wasn't sure how much. Dimly, he recognised that he was being carried, heard a melodic, panicked voice which he recognised as Rose's; he wanted so badly to wake up and tell her that everything was fine, but he couldn't. He had given everything to the Wolf; there wasn't anything left for himself, or for her.

Fire flooded through his veins and he screamed involuntarily; it had been so long since his last regeneration he had forgotten how much it hurt. He felt his body melt, tear itself apart cell by cell, then rebuild anew.

And then he slipped into unconsciousness once more.

-BAD WOLF-

He was awakened by the smell of tea being waved teasingly under his nose. He blinked open his eyes and instantly closed them again at the vibrance of colour.

Well, there was once change, he thought. So this incarnation relied on sight, did it?

He ran his tongue experimentally around his mouth, but the difference in teeth didn't seem as acute now. His clothes were tighter, he realised with irritation, but he wasn't exactly surprised.

He opened his eyes again to see Rose grinning before him, just as he remembered, except maybe a little older and _Rassilon, _had she always been that beautiful?

A few of his more cynical selves rolled their eyes at him, Nine grinned, and Ten said that she had.

"Hello," he said. Ooh, Irish accent, he thought happily. He'd always wanted an Irish accent...

_No, you haven't, _said all of his selves at once.

"Hello," she replied, and he now noticed the dark grey streaks staining her face, the slight tremble in her voice.

"Am I ginger?" he asked with dread, sitting up with some difficulty, as his limbs were not quite the same shape as they were that morning.

Or whatever.

Her mouth quirked. "Black," she said.

"Oh, thank Rassilon," he breathed, collapsing backwards.

She laughed at him and handed him the tea.

The Void? Easy. Nothing could stand in their way.

Someday, he resolved, not even mortality.

_There are no frontiers that we can't cross tonight_

_There are no borderlines to keep us apart._

-BAD WOLF-

Meh? Good for my first songfic? Horrific? Etc.?


End file.
